


time for reconnecting (is now)

by SinginInTheRaine



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bruises, Established Relationship, F/M, Gentle Sex, Injury, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 18:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18452606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinginInTheRaine/pseuds/SinginInTheRaine
Summary: “So this is where you’ve been hiding while I do all the hard work?” Framed in the doorway, the setting sun making her look more like a shadow than anything, Natasha smirked softly at him as she blew a wisp of hair away from her eyes.He couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face when he saw her. “Yeah, well, you looked like you had it covered. Crashing helicarriers in the Potomac was a nice touch.”Clint and Natasha reconnect after the world goes up in flames.





	time for reconnecting (is now)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Musyc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/gifts).



“So this is where you’ve been hiding while I do all the hard work?” Framed in the doorway, the setting sun making her look more like a shadow than anything, Natasha smirked softly at him as she blew a wisp of hair away from her eyes.

He couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face when he saw her. “Yeah, well, you looked like you had it covered. Crashing helicarriers in the Potomac was a nice touch.”

He waited for her to cross the room toward him, the door to the tiny little cabin he’d been holed up in for the three days since SHIELD fell swinging gently closed behind her. He couldn’t help catching sight of something that made the grin drop off his face, though.

Natasha noticed. Of course she did. She stopped a couple feet away from him. “I’m okay,” she said softly.

“Are you?” To him, it looked like she was limping a little, walking tenderly. Natasha never limped. And she never did anything tenderly.

She turned it back on him. “Are you?” He saw a look cross over her eyes, and he felt his chest tighten just that much.

“I got out in time,” he said. “I wasn’t compromised.”

“You could have been.”

“I wasn’t. And I’ve been holed up here ever since. Safe.” 

Natasha pursed her lips. “Some agents might not have been so lucky.”

He held his arms out. She stepped toward him but stopped short of letting herself be embraced.

“You did what you had to do,” Clint said. “You stopped Hydra.”

“I released everything, Clint. If someone dies because …”

He stopped her. Reaching out, pressing a finger to her lips. “You did what you had to do,” he repeated.

She stepped the rest of the way toward him then. He wrapped his arms around her. She felt smaller than the last time he had held her. More vulnerable. His chest tightened again.

But she was twisting her head up, peering at him, and he knew talking would come later. Recounting of whatever had happened would come later. For now …

She kissed him. Hard. Needy. Ready.

He kissed her back. Just as hard. Just as needy. His hands came up, cupped her cheeks. Her arms went around his neck.

Kissing her always felt like he was finally coming back up for air, and now was no exception.

His hands dropped, starting to trace down her neck, down her shoulders.

She winced. An actual wince. 

He pulled back, arched a brow at her.

She shrugged. “Got a new wound in the shoulder,” she said, like it was nothing.

His fingers found the bottom of the long-sleeve black shirt she was wearing. He tugged it up, tugged it off. 

The wound wasn’t the only thing new. There were bruises up and down her arms, her chest, her abdomen. He stared at her.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Nothing that won’t heal.”

“Nat …”

“I’m fine. Please?”

It was the way she said it, with that touch of a question at the end, with the hint of a pleading look in her eye. He never could say no to her.

He placed his arms on her hips, lifted her up. She wrapped her arms back around his neck, her legs around his waist. He met her lips, slower this time, more gentle. She didn’t argue, just let him carry her through the doorway to the tiny little bedroom, lay her carefully down on the bed that was barely big enough for the two of them.

She let him take his time, unbuttoning and then unzipping her jeans, sliding them carefully off her legs, checking her over for more bruises he needed to avoid.

“I’m fine,” she whispered again at one point, but he had never been one to just take her word for it when it came to things like that. He had to make sure himself. And when he was, assured there wasn’t something worse she was hiding, only then did he bend his head, careful to rub her legs, kissing every bruise he saw as he made his way up toward her thighs.

Her legs parted for him as his lips reached the edge of the black satin panties she had on. He placed his fingers directly on the center of them, feeling her squirm below him.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, from somewhere up above him.

“You’re just saying that because you want sex.”

“Is it working?”

“You tell me.”

He pushed her underwear to the side, leaning in, swiping his tongue along her length. Tasting her for the first time in a few months.

He closed his eyes, did it again. She shuddered below him.

He needed more room. He hooked his fingers in the sides of her panties, yanking them over her hips and down her legs. She kicked them off her feet as she spread her legs even more. He decided that still wasn’t enough room and pushed her knees apart even more.

She’d always tasted like a mixture of sweet and salty. He buried his tongue, and his nose, between her legs, licking and flicking and sucking, his hands holding her legs apart as she wrapped her fingers in his hair.

He wanted to go slow — be gentle, be careful — but he could tell Natasha had other plans in mind. She twisted beneath him, struggling to position herself where she needed to be. Clint slipped a finger inside her, then a second. He let her think she was winning, giving her what she needed as her moans built up, as her body writhed, and then he pulled back, leaving just the tip of his finger in her, just the tip of his tongue on her clit.

Her eyes flew open at the lack of sensation.

“Bastard,” she hissed, even as a smile threatened the sides of her mouth.

He grinned at her, then dove back in, everything faster and more prolonged, until there — her cry carried over him as she shook, her muscles trapping his fingers even as he made sure to draw out every last moment of pleasure.

Finally, she settled. He slid his fingers out from inside her, climbed up over her to settle his fingers over her lips. She licked his fingers, tasting herself, before he kissed her again. 

His hand slid gently up her side, stopping almost subconsciously at the bandages that were hiding the injury to her shoulder.

She reached up, placing her hand over his. “I’m fine,” she said again. “I just need you.”

He needed her too. It had been too long. Too much had happened since they’d been together.

He took her word for it, scooting off her just enough so he could undo his own pants, drop his own underwear to the floor. Then he lined himself up between her legs and pushed forward.

They groaned, together, as he began to move within her, gentle but steady. He usually let her be in control, but not today. Today was about him taking care of her. And take care of her he did, until she was crying out below him and he was following just moments later.

He cradled her in his arms when he was done, rolling over so she could lay against his chest. Usually she was happy to just move on with their day once they finished, but not this time. This time she let him hold her, let him comfort her.

“I’ll be fine,” she whispered against his chest. “Now that I have you.”

That he believed.


End file.
